If in her anger anything she stings.
So too a man's soul soon shall die,
If that the body becomes baser
By carnal desire, unless there come first
Regret to his heart before he from here goes.
XIX
Oh! sore is the folly, consider it who will,
And full of peril for every person,
That wretched mortals utterly amazes,
And far from the right road rapidly leads
Have you the will to seek in the woodland
Bright red gold among green trees?
Well do I know that no wise man
Will seek it there, since there it is not,
Nor look in vineyards for lustrous gems.
Why do you not hang nets on the hill-tops
When you would fain fishes capture,
Salmon and herrings? It seems likely
That dwellers on earth, all of them, know,
Men of sense, that such live not there.
Will you go hunting, with hounds follow,
In the salt sea, when you would seek
Harts and hinds? Have you not knowledge
That such as these you must seek in forests
More often by far than out in ocean?
Marvellous it is that all men know
That by the sea-shore search must be made,
